Sorry for the long wait and the short(ish?) chapter.

Enjoy.

A harsh breath of blueish smoke curled through the air with the don's annoyed sigh. He pulled the cigarette from between his lips, flicking it off to the side as he glanced down at his watch. The bright red cherry glowed in the evening gloom as it bounced across dirty blacktop. "I've got a date, friend, gotta leave in ten minutes. Know what that means for you?" He looked back up at the man one of his men had been working over and didn't wait for an answer. As he continued, he pulled his favored gun from the confines of his jacket, "Means you got ten minutes ta figure out how ta make me real happy before I paint the wall with your brains."

Eleven minutes later, a gunshot echoed through the alleyway.

Shiro pulled a new cigarette from the carton in his pocket and lit up as he climbed into the backseat of his car. His driver already knew where to go next. That date.

Their arrangement had been in place for a few months now without much luck. While whispers circulated and some even thought the novelty of the idea would wear off and Shiro would give up, Szayel assured him that it simply took time; he was healthy, the woman he'd chosen was healthy. It would happen if they kept at it. So he took her out at least once a week, sometimes two or three times, before they headed back to the mansion for the night. It was business and it was a longterm commitment before he even received the product he wanted, but he did his best to keep to his promise. Ichigo wouldn't have allowed anything else, of course, but that had very little to do with it. Shiro may have been a mafia don, but he wasn't inhumane and he wasn't naive and at the heart of him, as long as you didn't cross him, he wasn't a bad guy either. The better he treated the mother of his future child, the smoother things would go in the long run. It was all part of the business.

He was a few minutes late getting across town and the annoyance about it surely showed in his mannerisms when his car finally pulled into the drive of the modest house that had grown familiar by now, though the don rarely stepped foot inside and never stayed. In a fleeting thought, he wondered what her neighbors must have thought, seeing his car regularly, and what she told them when they started asking questions.

Despite his dampened mood, Shiro did his best to pour on that charm, no matter how much of a show it really was. He held the door to his car for her as she climbed in, before following behind her to slide into the seat next to her. "Sorry 'bout not bein' punctual. Clocked a little overtime taday." His smile was sharp and a bit forced, but the malevolence in it wasn't aimed at the young lady.

Orihime smiled like she didn't know what that probably meant and excused him, before she dared to give him a more thorough look over. Like their previous meetings, he wore his iconic white suit, everything about him pristine while out in public. The only downside to his image was that it showed even the slightest blemish. Clearing her throat a little, she gestured awkwardly to the tiny splash of bright red that had beaded along the front of his fitted suit jacket, near one of the buttons. Drying, it was darkening into an ugly and unmistakable stain.

Shiro glanced down at himself and threw a hand up in annoyance and surrender, "Ah, unbelievable. Forgive me." He quickly began shrugging from the jacket, making the task look effortless even in the smaller confines of the car. "Guess this suit's ruined." He chuckled as he folded the jacket up and laid it across the seat opposite them, continuing as if she hadn't just pointed out the blood splashed across him. He quickly straightened his white tie and checked over the dark button up he wore as he spoke. "You sure all you wanna do is see a movie? Ya know we can afford anything you want, you don't have ta be so modest."

The young lady eyed the jacket a moment longer, before pushing the rising in her stomach back down. She crossed her legs and shifted to lean towards him a little, making herself comfortable at his side. The arm he had thrown over the back of the seat behind her as he leaned back again didn't drop to wrap her shoulders, but deft fingers found a lock of her hair to twirl. That little 'we' in his words brought a small tilt to her lips as she nodded, "I know, but how often do you actually go to the theater?" When he arched a brow but had to think about it, she smiled a little wider. "It'll be fun, we can get stale theater popcorn with too much butter on top and not enough at the bottom and fountain soda."

A look of mock horror crossed the don's pale features, but it was obvious that a smirk was trying to win through, "You mean I have ta dine like everyone else? No wine? You gonna tell me I can't smoke too?"

Orihime laughed, "You can have a glass and a cigarette once we leave the theater."

"Not sure how I feel 'bout these rules…" But it was all in good fun and she'd been right. Shiro hadn't seen a movie in the theaters since he'd been just a kid. One of his father's men had taken him. Shiro had, years later, decided it had been out of pity; an excuse to get him out of the mansion, out of his father's sight and ridicule. A break for them both. Orihime's light voice pulled him from the thought.

"Where's Ichigo and Grimmjow?" She asked, having long since grown used to their presence, especially when outside the mansion.

Shiro shrugged simply, "I gave 'em the day off. They don't get many a' those."

Orihme nodded slowly, but knew better than to think that was as simple as the man made it sound. Likely they were also clocking a little overtime, as Shiro had put it. But he'd promised to keep her out of his darker work and so she never pried when he was vague.

"So you gotta movie picked out?" He asked, turning the conversation away from business again. Outside, the sun was beginning to set and dusk was darkening the space between buildings. He watched it go by.

"I do… but I'm not sure you'll like it." She smiled a bit, hands in her lap.

"Oh yeah? Well, I guess if I don't, that just means I get ta pick our next movie." He turned to her with a smile as the car pulled into the lot, easing to a stop before the entrance. She smiled back and climbed from the car at his side, arm in arm with him as the people around them paused to watch.

She'd been right. Romantic comedy wasn't the don's preferred genre, but he sat through it willingly enough and let her enjoy the movie and his company and the largest size popcorn the theater carried.

When the movie was over, they found their way back to the mansion, where she would ultimately spend the night.

That next morning turned out to be a big one. Her hands shook as she looked down at the little blue symbols starting to faze into existence; a minus sign, and a plus. A wave of nervousness and even fear washed through her; fear of what would happen, to her, for her, the baby and all the things that could go wrong between now and delivery. Worry that she wouldn't be able to handle a child if it did make it that far. But every thought and worry that came crashing into her thoughts in those few seconds was pushed aside as she sat there in a bathroom practically carved from marble. This child would have literally anything it ever needed or could ever want.

And Shiro would be so happy…

He treated her well, he really did. Just like he'd promised to in the beginning and up until this point, when their little fantasy was starting to become a reality, she'd almost forgotten that this was all just business, a contract.

From in the adjoining bedroom, the mattress springs shifted. The don's watery voice called a curious, "Everything alright in there, beautiful?"

Tears, of both joy and fear, welled in her eyes as she held the plastic pregnancy test in shaking hands. With a fortifying breath, she finally left the bathroom. Gold eyes watched her with maybe a hint of worry. Shiro was so hard to read. She nodded, breathed out a sob and masked it with a smile as she held the test up, "Shiro… you're going to be a father."

It took an exaggerated second for the don to register and react, "I- Really?" His pale brows arched and he shifted closer to the edge of the bed, the corner of a blanket pulled over his waist.

She nodded, her voice catching a little when she spoke, "I-I took three of them, all positive."

The large grin finally won through and Shiro surged to his feet, completely disregarding the blanket that fell away from his naked form. Despite that she'd put on a sleeping gown and was fully covered, his state of undress never seemed to bother him. She was sure he could stride naked through his mansion, surrounded by people, and not even notice. But that was neither here nor there. He crossed the space of his bedroom and wound strong arms around her, so pleased to finally hear good news that he twirled her in an excited circle before putting her back on her feet. "Why're you cryin'? This is great news."

"I know. Just- Just nervous, I suppose. This is a little bit scary…" A look of accidental shock overtook her features and she held out a hand, waving it in a staying motion, "Not you, of course! Not– Just, in general. A baby and being pregnant and…"

Shiro laughed again, not offended, "Nothin' ta be scared about. You'll be well cared for, anything ya need, just like I promised."

When she answered him, there was a smile on her face but her voice came out a whisper, "I know."

Later that same week, she had her first visit with a doctor hand selected by Shiro and the don's personal doctor. She'd had control over who her doctor was so far as to say yes or no to a short list of names and facilities given to her. Shiro, the father of her child, didn't accompany her to her appointment, insistent that all this stayed as quiet and calm and under the radar as possible. His reasoning was sound, of course, and Orihime had known going into it that this is how it would be until the child was born. There was still something a bit disappointing about it, though, something murky and dark that helped to drive home just who the father of her child was.

To his credit, Shiro did send his best man with her. Ichigo walked with her through the doors, helped her fill out the paperwork at the receptions desk, and sat in the waiting room with her. When her name was called and she was shown to a private room, he accompanied her there too, under the guise of her brother. It was a believable enough play and mitigated most questions about the father right from the start.

Of course, as early on as she was, there wasn't much news from the doctor that she hadn't already known but they went ahead and scheduled her next visit.

In the coming weeks and months, she slept with the don less and she couldn't help but feel as if, now that her purpose was fulfilled, he'd begun to lose interest in her. He still took her out, still treated her well and gave her anything she wanted or needed but he didn't take her to his bed as often and he seemed less willing to put business on hold if she needed something from him, unless it was something that concerned the unborn child.

On one particularly quiet evening, while the don sat behind closed doors with a tall, dark haired man he'd greeted by name, she decided to take the boss's righthand man up on an old offer. She hesitated as she raised her hand, before knocking on the solid wood of Ichigo's door.

Before her knuckles could make contact a second time, the door was pulled open and she looked up at handsome features and cold blue eyes. A bit of a smile pulled at her lips, "Grimmjow." She greeted quietly, then, "Is Ichigo-"

But before she could inquire further, the hunter stepped aside, pulling the door open wider as he cocked a brow at her. His eyes slid off to the side as he turned away and left her to follow him inside the space he shared with his handler. She closed the door behind herself as he called for his partner, announcing they had company and it wasn't the boss.

Ichigo joined them a moment later, dressed in plain black pants and pulling a grey shirt over his head as he left his room.

Orihime's features flushed and she pulled her attention away, taking in the space. It wasn't as extravagant as the don's private rooms, but it was still the size of a small apartment and no less well furnished. It was clean, but looked more lived in than the don's rooms. There were dishes stacked and waiting to be put in the dishwasher, a discarded suit jacket thrown over a chair in the dining area, a set of keys on the table next to a phone and one of Grimmjow's big knives.

"Is everything ok, Miss Inoue?" The handler asked, motioning for her to make herself comfortable.

She glanced at the indicated couch, before taking a seat, absently resting a hand against her stomach. After a moment's hesitation, she pushed half a small smile onto her features and nodded, dropping her hands into her lap. "Yes, just didn't much feel like sitting alone while Shiro entertains his guest."

Grimmjow frowned, a bit of alarm to the expression, "Shiro's entertaining and didn't request us…?"

Ichigo waved it off, "It's just Kuchiki. Not sure if it's business or not, but he's safe enough with Byakuya."

Grimmjow grunted. "At least one of us knows what's going on. This was easier with Ishida."

The handler sort of smiled, one corner of his lips slanting a touch, before turning back to Orihime. "What should we do, then? He and Byakuya can talk for quite a while, it's impressive, really. We'll probably have a few hours to kill."

A soft smile softened the woman's features. "I wouldn't mind getting out for a while." She decided. "Do you like romantic comedies more than Shiro does?"

Ichigo nodded with a laugh, "A movie sounds great." He turned to look at his partner, "Coming with us?" When the big man made a face, Ichigo's smile turned a little more cunning. "We can go to the theater that happens to sit a block away from that smithery you like."

Blue eyes narrowed, but Grimmjow crossed to the table and started collecting his coat. "That's a cheap tactic, Ichigo."

Ichigo laughed, "I'll buy you something sharp and shiny."

And so the three went to a movie while Shiro sipped wine with his high standing friend. A slight motion of his hand, a cigarette burning between two fingers, had their glasses refilled and he never missed a beat where he sat in the lounge comfortably.

"How is your personal project going, Shirosaki?" Byakuya asked, nodding his thanks to the servant but otherwise not acknowledging the quiet man. He knew just by the way his superior's pale features lit up that the answer would be a positive one.

"It's going fantastically. I not only found a willin' participant, but we're finally havin' some success. She's about four months along now."

"How wonderful. Congratulations, Shiro." He absently rotated the long stemmed glass in his hand, dark eyes coasting about the room briefly, "It's going to be quite the sight to see a little one running about."

The don accepted the good tidings with a graceful nod and a smile, "There go my quiet evenings, I suppose." The comment drew a quiet laugh from his business partner, "You and Hisana ever think about havin' kids?"

"We did. We thought we'd have a couple in the future, after I'd built up my family into something stronger, something safer for a child to grow up in. Alas."

Shiro let a moment of silence go by, sipping his wine. Then, "Well. You'll get the chance ta be an uncle."

Dark eyes widened minutely, before a quiet smile settled across regal features. "I'm honored. May I tell Rukia of the good news? She'll be excited to lavish your baby with more clothes and stuffed animals than a child needs."

The don laughed, "Yes, but no one else. I'm keepin' it as quiet as I can for now, until the baby's born. I wanna let the mother slip away quietly and preferably with her life when this is done. The less anyone knows of her involvement, the better. Let 'em talk and speculate afterward."

"Of course." Byakuya sipped his wine, that quiet smile still lingering on his placid, hard to read features. "Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet?"

The don shook his head, a stream of blue smoke curling through the air as he smoke, "Nah. Doctor says everything looks healthy and normal though."

After their social gathering was over, Shiro walked the other don to the front doors. Byakuya bowed slightly, thanking him for the wine and conversation, and wishing him fortune and a male heir to continue his name. Szayel met him at the door as he turned from the entry.

Grimmjow, Ichigo, and Orihime returned hardly a half hour later, the former looking vaguely annoyed while the latter two walked arm in arm up the low staircase of the entrance. The woman seemed to be in much higher sprits upon their return, but how could she not? After spending most of the evening flirting with Ichigo. And Ichigo was far too kind and understanding. It honestly grated on Grimmjow's nerves a bit, but as she'd left their company for a few minutes to use the restroom before the movie, Ichigo had all but pleaded with Grimmjow not to say anything.

"Let her have her fun, Grimm, it means nothing." He'd assured, "You know I'm not interested, and besides, she's carrying the boss's child. If this is what keeps her content and keeps her from stressing out, than I can help keep her mind off of Shiro's business."

"Fine." Grimmjow had been visibly displeased about it. The other people in the lobby of the theater around them gave him a wide birth, "But after all this is over, if she sticks around like you're hoping, we're telling Shiro. He deserves to know his woman's trying to climb all over his best friend."

Ichigo shook his head but there was amusement there, "If she stays and it continues, I'll speak to him about it myself."

They returned to the mansion to find the lounge empty, the wine glasses cleared from the table and the hallways silent. Ichigo smiled at the young lady hovering at his side, "I guess that means their meeting's over. He's probably in his suite, would you like us to escort you there?"

"No, thank you." Orihime smiled back, "I can manage on my own. I'm sure you two have other things to attend to without me taking up more of your time. Thank you, though, for the pleasant evening."

Ichigo assured her that it was his and Grimmjow's pleasure, careful to include both of them, before they parted ways. True to what she'd assumed, they headed back toward the front of the mansion, rounding the hallway towards a side wing that housed more of Shiro's business focused spaces.

Orihime watched them go for a moment, then turned back toward the rear of the mansion, where she'd find Shiro's rooms. The hallway back here was quiet while the majority of the mansion's usual occupants went about their duties for their boss.

She frowned as she let herself into Shiro's personal quarters, very nearly calling for her powerful lover before a sound like shifting weight and a gasp caught her attention. She tiptoed her way through the kitchen, rested a hand against the wood of the double doors that led into the bedroom itself, but didn't push them open more than the crack they'd been left at; a rushed attempt to throw the doors shut behind the occupants, no doubt.

Within, the don entertained another guest. The sheets were twisted between his fingers, his legs wound around slim hips. Dr. Granz pushed into him and he closed his teeth around the sound in his throat. Gold eyes were slit open, heavy lidded and swirling as he watched the doctor work above him, against him, for him. Pink, shoulder-length hair was a mess where it hung in the taller's face and Szayel's glasses had been discarded somewhere safer, leaving the full heat and force of those intelligent eyes to find the boss.

Shiro stuttered out a groaning sound of quiet pleasure, his body tightening as the doctor again thrust into him. "Fuck-" He whispered, "You really are gorgeous like this, Szazy."

The doctor snorted a breathless sound of amusement, his hands like vice grips upon the don's hips. His fingers left bruises on pale skin and he moved in a clinical way, his actions precise like he was studying each and every reaction. "I'm sure you tell your woman that too."

The don laughed, his features splitting into a smile that was happy in more ways than one. "Sure, and she is, but she's here for business. You're here for pleasure."

"I see. An important distinction." The doctor decided, leaning over his boss when fingers carded through his hair. He punctuated the words with a harder thrust, pulling the smaller into it.

"Indee- Ah!" Shiro cut his words short, arching against the mattress, head falling back as he fought to redirect his focus. When he failed to pick up their hushed, distracted conversation, he instead mumbled a needy, "Th-there, Szazy, right there."

Orihime covered a surprised gasp with a dainty hand over her mouth. Maybe this shouldn't have come as a surprise. She'd known from the start that what was between her and the don was purely business; a means to an end. He didn't really care for her, only what she could give him. But seeing it face to face was harsh all the same.

She backed away from the door and fled the suite as quietly as possible.

An hour later, as Shiro wandered through the halls of his mansion while he fixed the buttons of his silk shirt, he frowned and headed for the front entry. The angled step he took towards his secretary's office as he entered the rotunda was an automatic one, before he corrected it and instead went straight for the doormen. That particular office had sat empty for more than a year now, emptied out of all but a few personal items that Ishida hadn't a close family to send to.

"They're late." He stated, clearly displeased, as he stepped up to the men that turned towards him as he neared. There was no danger, of course, since she was out with his two best, but lagging behind schedule might as well have been an insult.

"Uh, no, sir." One spoke up, glancing at his partner with a frown, "They've returned already, more than an hour ago, but Miss Inoue came back and said you'd sent her away while you were busy again."

Shiro started to shake his head, frowning all the deeper, before his pale brows arched slightly, "Well, no more hidin' that one." He muttered, then sighed, "She went back home, I take it. Why's the car still out front?"

"She insisted that she needed some fresh air, sir…"

"She- what? She walked outta here, is that what you're tellin' me? She walked out, and ya let her? What the hell is wrong with you?" By the end of the short line of questioning, the don's voice was a snarl and rage twisted his features. "She's pregnant with my child, visibly pregnant- I have guys detailin' her for a good goddamn reason!" He raised a hand, pointed an accusing finger, and never mind that the two doormen were large gentlemen indeed, more than fifty pounds on the boss, they cringed. "Get Ichigo and Grimmjow here now."

Without giving further orders, he pushed between the two and out the front door. As the swinging doors slammed shut behind him, he pulled the handgun from where it always sat tucked against his spine and checked the clip, before putting it back. He forewent the car still parked out front, his driver seated within and ready, and stalked down the drive at a half-measured trot. She couldn't have gotten that far, especially if she really was only intending to get some air and kill some time rather than interrupt him.

He'd taken a right at the end of his drive, in the direction of the main drag of the city, and made it less than a block when he heard a scream. In their months of involvement, he heard enough of the sounds her voice could make to know exactly who it was doing the screaming and it took nothing more to prompt him into a full sprint down the road. He rounded the corner of an alleyway in time to see a man he'd never seen before yank her back to her feet by a hand in her long, beautiful hair. She begged him in pleading whimpers to leave her alone.

Shiro saw red.

He didn't even bother with the gun tucked into his pants. Instead, he ran straight into the alley, where the shadows were working to obscure the culprit and his victim. He caught the man by the back of the neck, dragging him away from Orihime. As the man released her and started to fall back, the don brought a knee up and drove it straight into the middle of the man's spine with a growl that could have just as easily come from a rabid dog.

He held up a single finger, "Stray right there." He told the woman, but didn't look at her as he threw the man in his grasp further towards the front of the alley. Orihime didn't have to be told twice as she practically huddled at the base of the brick wall, an arm slung around her distended belly. Terrified tears tracked her cheeks and she shook with adrenaline and fright as she watched the don.

For the first time in her presence, Shiro lived up to his title and the reputation attached to it.

White knuckles found the stranger's face, shattered his nose with the first hit. He cried out, half dropping to his knees as he reached up to cradle his broken face. Shiro didn't let him get to the ground, though, and grabbed the front of his shirt. He hauled the thug back to his feet, throwing him further toward the street and away from the mother of his child.

An all black car screeched to a harsh stop at the mouth of the alley. From within, Ichigo threw the door open, fully intending to rush to help his boss with the situation. Instead, he half fell back in his seat, backing up against Grimmjow as the target of Shiro's temper was thrown against the open doorway. Between the weight of the figure and the force of Shiro's throw, the car rocked.

Shiro straddled the man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as he dragged him forward enough to slam him back again so that the back of his skull found the car's metal doorframe. A sick crunch rang through the vehicle and Shiro released the man, straightening over his struggling form only grab the car door. A vicious sneer marred his panting features as he slammed the door shut on the man's skull, quite pleased when it bounced open again. Another sick crunched accompanied the protest of the door's hinges as it was swung shut again and, again, bounced back open.

From inside the car, Grimmjow arched blue brows almost mildly and watched over Ichigo's shoulder, unconcerned about the drastic, animal display. Blood splattered against the floor and the seat where the man half laid against it, the door mangling his face as it was shut again. "I guess the boss isn't bringing him in." He observed calmly.

Ichigo cringed at the wet, spongey sounds the victim made as he tried to breathe through the ruin of his face and neck. His hand was a tight vice against Grimmjow's leg, but the bigger hunter knew from experience that the edge to his partner's breathing wasn't necessarily entirely revulsion. It was always more fun later on if Ichigo wasn't actually the one getting his hands dirty. He'd never admit it, of course, but Grimmjow knew he liked to watch.

Outside of the car, Shiro finally quit beating on the motionless figure, his chest heaving below his dark colored, ruined silk shirt. He bent close, listening to the ragged, bubbling gasping of breath that managed to wheeze from the thug's crushed jaws. The poor fool didn't move. The don fisted his hands in the man's shirt again, but this time it was only to drag him from the car's doorway. He dropped him to the side, kicking him over so that he was out of the way and laid on his back. Looking down at the misshapen figure, he bent close again, sneering in the broken face, "This better be an isolated event, ya hear me? Anyone else lays a hand on her, I'll kill them first and be back ta finish this."

With that, he stepped over the man and turned to face the young woman staring at him with wide, tear filled eyes. He sighed at the look, turning back toward the car. Without prompt, a handkerchief was handed to him and he began wiping the blood spatter from his hands and arms, the few drops that managed to shower one side of his face. When he was as clean as he was going to get, he tucked the cloth into a pocket of his pants and pushed a hand back through his hair to get the long strands out of his face, and continued back down the alleyway with a deep, calming breath.

Orihime only hesitated a moment when he offered her a hand. She accepted his help in getting back to her feet, a hand protectively held against her belly.

"Are you alright?" Shiro asked, looking her over, "He hurt you or the baby?"

Orihime shook her head, swallowed, "N-no, I'm- I'm fine. We're–" But her voice cracked and when his arm reached around to settle a hand against the middle of her back with mild pressure, she didn't resist being pulled against him. She cried as she hid her face in his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He was quiet a moment, before asking, "Are ya sorry because you're afraid I'll hurt you for runnin' off?"

She shook her head and whispered, "No… I'm not afraid of you."

He nodded, satisfied enough with her answer, and began leading her to the car.

When they'd made it back to the mansion, a short few moments of quiet car ride and the thick smell of blood, Shiro insisted that she let Szayel check her over quickly. Just for peace of mind, he said, to make sure the stress and rough handling hadn't hurt her or had an adverse effect on the developing baby.

With little real choice in the matter, she agreed. She couldn't look Szayel in the eye through the entire exam, her attention constantly edging off to the side as careful fingers touched here and there while she answered questions. But she didn't say anything about the events that had surely led to her sudden need for fresh air, so Shiro didn't either and Szayel was left in the dark entirely.

In the coming weeks, she seemed less and less infatuated by the boss and all his charm. She was, of course, not openly disinterested or hostile or even so much as impolite to him, she wouldn't dare even if she had it in her to be so, but the change was still noticeable to the point where Ichigo and Grimmjow had picked up on it.

One evening, as Orihime had excused herself from their company under the guise of being tired, Ichigo turned to his boss with a bit of a frown. "Is all well, sir?" He'd asked. "She seems… discontent lately."

Shiro, of course, already knew all that. He half waved it off, unconcerned so long as all went smoothly with his child. He sat back in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the dinning room table -who was going to tell him not to?- and pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. With a sigh, he lit up. "Remember the other day when she got jumped? She'd run out 'cause she caught Szazy and me." He said it so casually that, even though it wasn't particularly surprising, it wasn't what Ichigo was expecting to hear.

The handler half choked on his wine, turning a look on the younger. "Caught you two… Caught-?" He tried to confirm.

Shiro shrugged. "Fuckin', yeah. We didn't know she was there, or even in the mansion. I figured she was still with you two. I'm readin' between the lines, but I'm guessin' she musta' let herself inta my suite and got more than she bargained for. I was a little distracted," He cracked a smile and shifted his attention to Grimmjow, "Whatever ya said ta him after Ishida musta did the trick, Grimm, I owe ya. Haven't been fucked like that in a while, and he's a real quick learner."

The big hunter grunted a laugh, "Threatening him is always my pleasure, boss, but you're welcome. Glad to hear I wont have to worry about you creeping into my bed at night anymore."

"I dunno 'bout that, if Ichigo'd agree ta-"

Ichigo shook his head, half in disbelief, half in answer. But went back to the topic at hand, "So what's that mean for her and your deal with her?" He asked, leaning further over the table with a steadily deepening frown that said he was quite disappointed in his friend.

The mob boss's humor drained and he half curled his lip. "I like Grimmjow's line of thinkin' better." He started offhandedly, before shrugging. He took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl from his nostrils as he spoke, "The same as it meant before. I'll talk to her tanight, but nothin's changed. She's gotta put up with me 'till the baby's born. After that, she's free ta go and never see me, my family or this building ever again. Simple."

"It's not going to be that simple, Shiro, you realize that, right?"

Again the boss merely shrugged. "I'll deal with it."

The handler seemed all the more disappointed, but he couldn't count how many times this same discussion had been brought up in the past six months. "Shiro… You're not attached to her even a little? She's a living, breathing human being and she's about to give you another family member…"

"I like her, Ichigo, I really do. I'd love nothin' more than ta work this out ta her advantage the best I can and that's what I'm gonna do at next to all costs, but a deal's a deal. I'm not about ta endanger my empire for her, I wanna cut her clean and send her on her way with a whole shit load of cash and be done with it. But if she breaks the contract she entered into with me…" He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture, the cigarette smoking between two of his fingers, "I'll handle it. Personally."

Later that night, he found her half asleep on his couch, one of his old mobster movies playing on the big screen in his sitting area. She wasn't paying much attention to it, but she noticed when it stopped playing, the picture pausing and the sound falling away. She looked up at him, surprise on her tired features as she aimed the attempt at a smile towards him.

He didn't bother returning the hollow gesture and moved to sink against the cushion furthest from her on the couch. Without preamble, he began, "Look, I get it. I probably fucked up the other night. I was tryin' ta save ya the stress of it, but I shoulda been up front about the doc and I sleepin' tagether from the start. He's been my lover for a couple years now. I kicked him outta my room for your sake, but-" When she tried to interrupt, to dismiss what he said, he held a staying hand up and continued anyway. "If you don't wanna pretend ta keep likin' me, that's fine. I don't expect ya to. I never did. I got a room that's been empty for a while, I can have it cleaned and readied, and set ya up in there for the resta' your stay if that'd be more comfortable and less awkward for ya. It's close ta mine, just down the hall, so I'd still be in easy reach if you needed anything."

Even though it was phrased as a choice, it sounded more like he'd already made up his mind.

"I gotta warn ya, though. Just 'cause you and me are through doesn't mean you get ta keep makin' eyes at Ichigo. His hunter's real protective of him. See what I'm sayin'? You'd be smart not ta step on Grimmjow's turf."

She opened her mouth to speak, but words fell short and she instead dropped her attention to her lap. It was the first time Shiro had brought the subject up, but he wasn't stupid or unobservant. She was a fool to think her little crush was as hidden as she had hoped.

"I caught the way ya kept lookin' at him our first meetin'. It's fine," Shiro excused her with the very slightest hint of a smirk, "He's charmin' as all hell when he wants to be, I'm not mad about it. I trusted him not ta touch ya and I trusted you to be too smart to go behind my back, and you have been. No harm done. I'm only bringin' it up now to save you the trouble of havin' to deal with Grimmjow when he's finally sick of it."

"I-" She finally forced out, choked and upset. "I'm sorry…"

He shook his head and started to climb to his feet. "Don't be. I fucked it up myself. It's been fun though, I never really had someone ta take out and lavish b'fore. Maybe I'll see about doin' something a little more romantic with Szazy every once in a while, now that you've whet my appetite for it." With a small shrug and a lop-sided smirk, he looked down at her. "I'll let ya have my bed tanight. We'll get that room ready for ya tomorrow."

"I'm sure he'd like that." She said very, very quietly, then sat motionlessly for a second, a hand absently against her rounded belly. "I'm being confined to the mansion, aren't I?"

"More or less. If you wanna go out and ya don't wanna do it with me, I'll assign a detail to look after you in my place."

Orihime nodded and quietly followed his lead, climbing to her feet. When he offered her a hand, she absently, automatically took the assistance and without another word, she turned towards the interior of his suite and made for his bedroom. When she made it to the double doors, she heard him sigh and sink back down to the couch. A few seconds later, the movie unpaused and the sounds of a car chase resumed.

That next morning, Ichigo helped Orihime move into Ishida's old room. She hadn't brought much of anything to the boss's mansion with her, but she'd acquired a reasonable collection of fine clothing and pricey jewelry during her stay. Shiro hadn't skimped out on making her look the part when they'd been seen together in public.

"This place has been empty for a while." Orihime said in the awkward silence as she opened a barred window that faced the back of the estate. The fresh air was welcomed in the slightly stale space.

"Yeah." Ichigo settled a particularly heavy stack of clothing down on the bed in the two room space. Since Ishida hadn't a partner -of the business kind or otherwise- he'd had no need for the larger, conjoined space Shiro's teams had, and of course nothing nearly as elaborate as the small apartment that was Shiro's personal rooms. "The don's had a rough time of-" He hesitated, motioning vaguely, "Of accepting Ishida's death. That one hit hard. Ishida had been at his side nearly as long as I have. He and I practically watched Shiro grow up."

She made a soft sound of regret, "The friend you told me about?" but didn't wait for an answer. She shook her head, stopping what she was doing and suddenly looked like she was intruding. "Oh, no… He doesn't have to– This is too much… I didn't mean-"

Ichigo aimed a slight smile at her that might have been a touch sad, and dropped to sit on the edge of a bedside table. "No, this-" He started, motioning around them, "this is a good step for him. He needs something to help him move past it. It's a shame how things are working out between you two -he actually seemed pretty happy with you- but he needed a reason to empty this room out."

"Well… At least I could do that much for him." Orihime decided.

"You've done a lot more than that for him." Ichigo assured her, "More than you realize."

"…he hates me now."

"No." Ichigo shot back, not harshly, but decisively. "I think he likes you a lot more than he wanted to." Unfortunately, he was starting to wonder if that wasn't as dangerous or more so than the don not liking her at all. Ichigo shook his head slightly, "This is a dangerous position you've been put in, Orihime, I'm sorry. And I know this is frightening and it's too much to ask- I hate it myself, but… Please, when the time comes, honor your contract with the boss. Cut your loss and move on."

He studied the way her attention averted away from him and how gently, reverently her hands settled on her stomach, and he knew then that she wouldn't take his advice. She wouldn't hand the child over and be done with this horrid business. She would disappear and it would be by Shiro's hand, just like the boss said it would be. He pitied both of them, and regretted what would happen.

He thought that maybe she saw that when she finally looked up at him, but she said nothing. She didn't try to reassure him, she didn't try to lie to him or herself. It was an admirable, quiet strength.

Comments are welcome. Thanks for reading!